


Tell me about the sky

by AquilaCreed



Series: Mucis prompts [2]
Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: M/M, Sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-19
Updated: 2015-07-19
Packaged: 2018-04-10 04:44:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4377677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AquilaCreed/pseuds/AquilaCreed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Malik and Altair had a habit of taking little trips to the hill with a tree. Their ritual was changed after a certain event took place.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tell me about the sky

**Author's Note:**

> This was a music prompt on my tumblr. The song was Hands Like Houses - Antarctica

Going to the park became a habit. Malik would no longer make petty excuses and accepted that Altair actually wanted to do this for him, and not for himself.

First time they left the house and found a cosy little place under a tree, Malik was enjoying the view so much, he refused to leave even when darkness fell. He made Altair promise him that they would visit that hill at least once a week, and stay after the sun has set and just look into the void of space. Altair agreed, and Malik reluctantly followed after him that day.

 

But things have changed since then; in the beginning they would visit the hill and the tree every week, sometimes more than once. But their visits were interrupted, and Malik was rarely seen there; only Altair, wearing sad expression on his face.

 

It took him months to persuade Malik to come to the hill with him, to sit between familiar roots of the old tree. Malik resisted, for a long time. He would not care to go, he did not want to be near people, and he did not want to leave the house.

But Altair was persistent, he would not let Malik be alone, he would not allow him to forget their promise. And Malik did agree to join him, once again, on their little trip outdoors. First time was hard, it was uncomfortable, and somewhat restricting. This did not stop Altair from insisting that they go again and again. On his bad days, Malik would refuse to go; other days he could be persuaded to join Altair.

 

Their little trips to the hill with the old tree became a habit once again. It took a great effort on Altair’s part, but even greater on Malik’s.  Almost every day they would sit in the shade of the old tree, Altair faced the park so he could look at the ever gathering crowd; Malik found his old place between thick roots of the trees, overlooking the empty plane of grass in the distance. On most days, Altair would talk to Malik, about children in the park, about birds that flew over them, about the old days, about the happier times.

But this time Altair did not speak, he could barely look at Malik. And it was noticeable, his silence, and his pain on that day.

 

Before they even left their house, Malik asked Altair if he could make a little origami for him. How could Altair refuse on such a day; of course he did the little thing in a matter of minutes. He placed the folded paper in Malik’s opened palm.

 

“Thank you.” Malik cupped Altair’s face with his free hand. There was no answer from Altair, save for the faintest of smiles he was able to put on. “Lead the way.” but Malik’s smile was sincere, he was truly happy.

 

Altair took the longer way to the hill, to avoid as many people as he could; this was more for his than for Malik’s sake. On this day, Altair did not feel comfortable near other people, for he did not wish them to see sorrow in his face. One of his hands was offered to Malik, who held onto it until they reached their usual destination. In Malik’s other hand was folded paper, origami made for him by Altair. On this day, there were no children in the park, and no birds flying above them. Malik was the one that begun to speak, because he felt Altair was preoccupied with distant taught, of distant event.

 

“Altair, do you remember first time we met?” he did not wait for Altair to answer, he was more than aware that there would be no audible answer “We were both there to see which role would be the best for us. And you were so jealous that I got the Aerial Forces. And I was so jealous that you got Special Forces.” The smile on his face widened “We even presented our case to our superiors. Well, I presented it and you were just standing there looking furiously at them.”

Altair’s hands clenched around his clothes, there was an unheard sound that desperately fought to find his way out with his breath, and Malik continued uninterrupted “Of course, they said no, we could not trade places, because your hearth would not stand the altitude and I was not agile enough to be trained in Special Forces.” His head was leaning against the dry bark of the tree, his eyes shut “We started spending our time together after that. You fell for me when I removed my calm and understanding face and raged at the commander for being unjust. And I fell for you when you punched him, earning yourself a month of patrol duty.” His grip tightened around the remains of folded paper in his hand. He could not talk anymore.

 

“Altair, what do you see?”

 

“I see empty field, tall green grass, and the sky.” His voice was steady, when he finally found it, and revealed nothing.

 

“Tell me about the sky…” Malik’s eyes were faced to the sky.

 

“The sun is setting, and the colours are spread around it. The blue melts to orange, red, and yellow. The clouds are rare, scattered across horizon. In the distance there is already dark outline of the night. Of stars…” his voice faltered, just for a second. His eyes were filled with tears; he was afraid to close them and to allow the tears to spread across his face.

 

“Altair, I am aware of what day it is. Please…”

 

“I can’t…” and he gave in to the tears. He could not forget this day, he could not forget that many years ago, on this day, Malik lost his sight. It was permanent; there was no hope for him to regain it, he would be deprived of every colour, and every sight for the rest of his life. And Altair blamed himself. He blamed his recklessness, he blamed the traffic, he blamed the poor choices, and he blamed his rush.

 

Malik let him have his peace, he did not speak until he was sure that Altair was calm enough to talk. Night has already fallen by then, and the stars spread above them. “Altair, tell me about the sky.” He reached upward with his hand, opening his palm and revealing a small paper plane he has been holding on to. And the paper gave in to the night wind, leaving Malik’s palm, flying off to somewhere.

 

“Yes, Malik.”

 

 


End file.
